Hi there! This is our September/October edition of Tone newsletter. This issue contains a variety of articles. The newsletter's page is planned to be updated regularly. So come back and see what's new.
There are six sections in this issue. You can go to the articles by "clicking" on the coloured "contents" text or using your browser's scroll bar. If you want to give us some feedback, or submit an article for "Tone"please click on the "contacts..." text. Our newsletter addresses are located there. You can also go back to the VCP home Page and locate our E-mail addresses. We hope you enjoy our site and come back often!
For this instalment of the "Voices Within" series I interviewed Yoshinori Tanabe, the Executive Director of both the Voice. of the Cerebral Palsied of Greater Vancouver, and, its sister society, the Voice of the Cerebral Palsied Housing Society.
Yoshi and his twin brother were born on March 12, 1949 in Kyoto, Japan. Unfortunately being born prematurely his twin did not survive. Life was tough in Japan at that time because it was slowly recovering from the devastating effects of WWII. From 1945 to 1949 the American forces occupied Japan. They brought their western culture to the Japanese by imposing their own legal and democratic system on the country and introducing the Japanese to western goods and supplies. When the American occupation ended on March 1, 1949 Japan was thrown into chaos. Its fledgling civilian government was ill equipped to govern the country. There were extreme shortages of food and other essentials. Ironically, if Yoshi had been born twelve days sooner, he would have been American.
As a young child, he was sickly. Not only did he contract childhood diseases like measles and mumps, but he also caught TB from a neighbour. Fortunately, his step-grandfather bootlegged pharmaceuticals. Therefore, Yoshi's family always had access to much-needed medicine which was virtually impossible to buy legitimately.
Yoshi's parents gave him a lot of freedom as a child. In Japan the youngest male child is generally spoiled. In Yoshi's case, being both the youngest male and disabled, he was especially spoiled. Besides, his parents believed that he could not get into too much trouble because he was not very mobile. He crawled until he was five. In the beginning walking was a precarious exercise - he'd take a few steps, fall, get up, and start over again. He wore rubber boots with his traditional Japanese shorts instead of "geta" (Japanese sandals) because he could not walk in the sandals. He was quite a sight with his banged up knees and gum boots!
His limited mobility hindered his ability to play with children his age because he couldn't keep up with them., He played with younger children or he associated with adults. Being with adults matured him beyond his years. He developed intellectual skills by learning to play chess with adults. His keen intellect is one of his defining characteristics.
When he reached school age he attended a public pre-school for a year because the private one his brother attended would not accept him. He enjoyed his time there. However, when he went on to grade one he found school totally over whelming and didn't do well. There were approximately 50 students in the class, and he did not receive the attention he needed.
Around this time his parents decided to move to Canada in search of better opportunities, especially for Yoshi. In Japan, there were no services for people with disabilities. In fact, people with disabilities were hidden away by their families to "save face".
Yoshi's father is a Canadian citizen by birth. When he was 75 days old his uncle brought him back to Japan where he was raised by his grand parents. Traditionally, the second oldest male was sent back to Japan to carry on the family name, and to look after the estate and any family members there.
His father left for Canada and settled in Vancouver. He sent for his wife and two sons a year later. They set out on a 16 day voyage to Canada. Yoshi had a great time on the ship - it was a big adventure!
He was the only one who did not get seasick. He proudly claims never to have missed a meal!
On November 16, 1957 the shipped docked in Vancouver harbour. Talk about culture shock! The streets were paved. There were lots of cars. Best of all, there was central heating!
After a week or two, he started grade one at Lord Strathcona School. Not knowing any English, except "hello" and "thank you", he did not learn much. His teacher, convinced that he was deaf, wanted him thoroughly tested. A public-health nurse, who happened to be a second or third generation Japanese, became involved. She saw he needed specialized treatment, and told his parents about GF Strong.
The following September Yoshi began school at GF Strong. There he received extensive occupational and speech therapy. Through a combination of speech therapy and watching lots of TV he learned English.
Yoshi remained at GF Strong from grades one to four and then went back to Strathcona for grades five to seven. This move was a major adjustment. His marks fell from C average to E's. His language and reading skills were below average and he had never been taught science and social studies at GF Strong. He got by with a struggle and went on to Britannia High School where he graduated in 1970 with the H.P. Capozzi Achievement Award. He enjoyed high school because he became more independent and the students were more mature. His grades also greatly improved.
In grade twelve a teacher, doing her MA in Education Counseling, asked Yoshi to be one of her research subjects. During her research as to what was available for disabled students after high school she took Yoshi to all the local post secondary institutions and told him about Aid to the Handicapped which ultimately paid for his schooling at Langara. He credits her with opening doors for him.
He attended Langara College and received a diploma in Finance and Investment after three years of study. While he was at Langara he used the employment and social work counseling at GF Strong. One of the counsellors put him in contact with a student in the school of social work at UBC who decided to make a video about organizations for people with disabilities. Through their work to make this video Yoshi got to know a number of people with disabilities.
Through these contacts he landed his first major job after finishing Langara -at HEED (Handicapped Effort to Employ the Disabled). He searched for jobs for people with disabilities at employment centres. Finding virtually no openings, he decided that what was needed was to form organizations run by and for people with disabilities to create job opportunities.
Grassroots consumerism was in its infancy. He joined forces with a number of other people with disabilities, whom he had met while working on the video, to form the BC Coalition of the Disabled and the Voice of the Cerebral Palsied of Greater Vancouver. For about six months Yoshi was President of the BCCD and Chairman of the VCP. After the BCCD was well-established, he left to focus his efforts on the VCP. Because many of the nucleus of people involved in the VCP lived in or near False Creek, they met at Rick Watson's place. These people included Audrey Hill, Fay Fergusson, Annette Gerein, Roy Clark, Bob and Karen Woodward, the late Rick Watson and Harry Ohr.
Over the course of -their meetings the shortage of affordable and accessible housing was discussed. It was decided that the VCP would put up a housing project. Seven years later in 1983, after much perseverance, determination and plain hard work a 39-unit apartment building went up on East 8th Avenue in Vancouver. Shortly thereafter the VCP's sister society, the Voice of the Cerebral Palsied Housing Society was formed to manage the apartment building and to advocate for the development of more accessible and affordable housing.
After the building opened, the VCP took over one of the units for its office from which it has run all its programs and services and a succession of projects which employed a number of people with CP. Yoshi takes pride in the fact that the VCP provided, and continues to do so, the most job training opportunities of any organization in BC.
Over the years of working with members and clients one person stood out as special for him. "On May 7, 1994 I married Laurette Yelle. "Her support, guidance and love continues to help me personally and professionally strive to be the best I can be", he says.
Yoshi's guiding principle is that the VCP and VHS must be run by and for people with CP. "We work in partnership with our clients and members to help them reach their fullest potential", he says.
Donella Oliver is nearing the finish line in a lawsuit that began 13 years ago. The Vancouver single mother won't know for another month whether she is a winner or a loser in a case of negligence involving her daughter Tarryn, who suffers from cerebral palsy, partial blindness and learning disabilities.
The doctor who failed to diagnose Donella's gestational diabetes while she was carrying Tarryn admitted negligence. After a winding route to trial, Tarryn's guardian, the public trustee of B.C., approved a settlement hammered out by lawyers for Tarryn, the negligent doctor, another doctor named in the lawsuit and Grace Hospital.
But out of the settlement of $1.25 million approved by B.C. Supreme Court Justice Carol Huddart in April 1994, more than $530,000 went to pay lawyer's fees, disbursements and taxes. Out-of the remainder, which is all in trust until Tarryn turns 19, Donella, who quit her job as a medical secretary in 1984, was awarded $50,000 for her loss of income over the years she was the sole caregiver. Another $100,000 was to be split between mother and daughter.
Donella declined her $50,000 award, hoping a judge would revisit the settlement when the division of the $100,000 was made.
Although the public trustee agreed to settle on behalf of Tarryn, Donella maintains she has not been properly compensated by the two doctors and the hospital. B.C. Supreme Court Justice Mary Boyd yesterday reserved her decision in the case. Donella's lawyer, Dorothy-Jean O'Donnell asked Boyd to look at all the facts of the case and award her client substantially more. O'Donnell says the mother would have earned $400,000 if she had held a medical secretary's job over the past 11 years.
Donella has been trying to support herself -and her 15-year-old daughter, who still lives at home in east Vancouver, on her $800-a month cheque from social services.
"The public trustee should never have settled for ($1.25 million) because the lawyers fees were too high," she said outside court.
Robin Harper and Don Holubitsky, counsel for Grace Hospital argued the settlement cannot be reopened.
I entered school around the age of four-years old. It was a school for crippled children, as it was called back then. I was a kid with a severe form of Cerebral Palsy. The doctors called it "Athetoid" Cerebral Palsy, which basically meant, I had a high level of muscle spasticity, with no speaking capability.
The problem, as described to my mother, was that one half of my brain had been chewed up like a half eaten apple. The other half, my thinking part, was not damaged in any way. Doctors, therapists, and social workers had strongly suggested to my parents that I would be best put in an institutional home with other kids with disabilities, so I could receive proper care and upbringing. Yeah, right ... My mother wouldn't hear of it; she wasn't going to give up her own son to a bunch of strangers to raise.
I didn't know it at the time, but that was the best decision my mother made for me. She was determined to raise me as a normal kid, in a non-disabled environment. However, there was no choice in the educational system for children with disabilities.
I had been put in a classroom setting with other kids who had various physical and mental disabilities. The school was part of a centre for rehabilitation named "The Ontario Crippled children's Centre," now called the "Hugh McMillian Centre", named after the man who named the centre "Crippled Children Centre."
My first day in that school was rather traumatic. It was the first time I had been exposed to other kids with disabilities. For four and a half .years I had been in a household with an able-bodied sister, and played with other able-bodied kids. In my own mind, I was also "able-bodied."
My earliest memories in this classroom were of seeing those other kids who looked so unusual, and so unhappy. I saw kids without legs, without arms, without legs AND arms. I was afraid of maybe seeing a kid without a head, as I clutched harder to my mother's arm. There were kids just sifting in their wheelchairs staring into space. Another one couldn't sit still in his chair, he had constant involuntary movements and spasticity. Being unaware at four and a half, to me that, kid looked like he had to pee, real bad. Finally, the teacher took me from my mother's arms and put me among the group of kids. This was the beginning of my segregated school upbringing. I can remember feeling a sense of anger and confusion as to why I couldn't be with my friends at their school. I knew I was just as smart as they were. I wasn't "sick" like these kids. (Those were my thoughts at the time.)
Physiotherapists worked on my motor skills, finding out what I could do for myself and how limited physically I was. They found that I had good head control so they designed a head pointer to type with and gave me an electric typewriter which allowed me to do schoolwork, and to communicate. Those two items, the typewriter and a headpointer, had an immediate impact. I was now able to write down the words in my head for people to see. I still needed to learn, how to spell first.
The first few words I remember having to learn to spell were '"cat", "dog", "mom," "dad", and other simple one-syllable words. Then I was taught how to write a simple sentence, such as, "the dog has four legs. Being a kid with a visual mind I wrote a sentence like "the dog has four legs and a pee-pee too." I can vaguely remember the teacher saying to me, "We do not use those words, they are wrong, now just write the words as I say them to you." I couldn't understand what was so wrong about using the words "pee pee."
A year and a half later they transferred me to a public school called "Sunny View Public." This school was set up the same way as a regular public school system, only it was designed for children with disabilities up to the age of sixteen. I was put into a level one class, similar to first grade. I was taught the basic academics, reading, writing, arithmetic, etc. This school, however, was contradictory to my way of living at home. In that school environment I was sheltered from the real world. I was not taught how to be self-sufficient, or how to be an independent minded person, or any real life skills to cope with real life situations..
The students Were just taught basic academics.. I was conforming to the notion that I was a kid with a severe disability that would not allow me to be able to associate with able-bodied kids, something I had done before I had entered "the disabled school environment."
At the age of sixteen I was transferred to a more integrated high school. At the time, I can remember feeling terrified. After ten years of being in a school system for disabled kids, I felt like a freak in this school. I was put in a home room class which I felt safe in, since it was a classroom setting for kids with disabilities. The home room class was designed to ease disabled students in with the other able-bodied students. We had certain scheduled times where we had to go out from home room to other classes with able-bodied students. These classes taught subjects on history, English, science and geography - I took the history and English classes.
In these classes I could only sit in a corner and listen to the lessons being given by the teacher. I had no opportunity to ask questions, or even do any work in class. The teacher refused to take the time to read my letter board that I carried with me for communicating. He told my home room teacher he could not take any time out with the rest of his class because the other kids would easily be distracted, and he would lose their attention. The home room teacher took it as a reasonable explanation. I took it as a load of bull.
They were missing the whole point of putting me in that classroom. The point was to integrate disabled students with able-bodied students, and to have them learn and interact with each other. I wrote a letter to the principal's office stating that fact, and how humiliating it was to sit in a corner like a cactus plant.
A letter of response came back but it was not addressed to me; it was addressed to my home room teacher, Mr. Frank Morrison. Mr. Morrison then read the letter to me. The letter basically stated that teachers of this school, excluding Mr. Morrison were not obligated to give any special attention to a student who has a severe disability, and who is without speech. That letter sounded so cold, and so mean. After hearing that apathetic response, I felt like going right into the principal's office and just trashing it, along with throwing him out the window, and letting him know what it is like being "severely disabled" first hand.
Calming me down, Mr. Morrison suggested the important thing I do now is stick it out for a couple of more years, and try to get as much learning in as possible. He told me he would ask the other teachers to give me the work assignments, and I would do them in the home class where there were electric typewriters set up. I reluctantly agreed, and asked if, after a couple of years, could I then go back to the principal and throw him out the window? "Yeah, that's fine," he replied..
I spent the next two years in that so called "integrated school system." I couldn't make any other friends, other than ones in the home room class. The able-bodied students basically considered me to be mentally retarded. The school system did nothing to make those kids aware that the physically disabled students were not also mentally disabled.
There was a growing resentment towards me attending those classes With the able-bodied students. They did not understand why I had to be in their classes, and frankly at the time neither did I. I was just taking up space, and I think they felt I was giving the school a negative image. One particular kid came right out and asked me "Hey, why aren't you in one of those crippled schools?"
Then there was this other kid who kept taking my lunch for some strange reason. This I couldn't take. The next day I had one of my friends from the neighbourhood put a small mousetrap in my sandwich, between a slice of ham and cheese. Lunchtime came, and sure enough the kid took my sandwich. The disabled kids naturally sat at a separate table at the very end of the cafeteria. Five minutes later, however, we had no trouble hearing the scream of pain coming from the other end of the cafeteria. It was the greatest day in two lousy years!
On that last day of my two year commitment, I wrote another letter to the Board of Education. I wrote that I felt robbed of receiving the proper education needed to achieve my goals in the future. I was also going to see to it that this school system didn't cheat other students with disabilities from their right to an education, as I was cheated.
The Simon Fraser University Alumni Association sponsors a Career Mentor Program which offers students and recent graduates an opportunity to explore career options. As mentors, SFU grads share their knowledge and experience enabling students to gain more information about the job market. In order to better serve the student population, especially those with disabilities, the program is looking for mentors who are also disabled. If you are interested in becoming a Mentor, or if you want more information about the program, contact Glenda Watson or Christopher Mussels at the:
Career Mentor Program,
Alumni Relations Office,
Simon Fraser University,
Burnaby, BC V5A 1S6
Phone: (604) 291-32151 -fax: 291-4958,
or e-mail: gwatson@sfu.ca
Production:
Chairperson of the Board of Directors - Ted Nelson
Executive Director - Yoshinori Tanabe
Chairperson of the Newsletter Committee - Laurette Yelle
Webmaster - Derek Isobe
Editorship - Newsletter Committee
<<<<< all volunteer >>>>>